


shining defeats

by isleofapplepies



Category: Being Human, Being Human (UK)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isleofapplepies/pseuds/isleofapplepies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't meet in life. But meet they do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shining defeats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themountainkingsreturn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themountainkingsreturn/gifts).



"So this is it?" Nancy mutters. "All of it?" The seam of her trousers is scratching the skin of her waist. She meant to have them fixed. But she’s sitting here in her itchy trousers.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?"

Nancy drags her eyes up. The girl - Lia Shaman, 22, BT20 victim - is leaning towards her, looking nervous in her attempts to sound reassuring. She’s playing with her fingers as she watches Nancy’s face, entwining them firmly, crushing bone against bone. She must feel the pressure and friction of her own skin just as Nancy feels the bad seam of her clothing, or the hardness of the bench she’s sitting on. “This is death?” she says.

Lia draws in a breath. She looks as though she wants to break eye contact but doesn’t. Her mouth twists in a tight-lipped smile that may or may not be concealing a hysteric sob. "Oh. Yes. Yes," she nods. Her eyes glisten with suppressed tears. "You get used to it," she adds somewhat inappropriately.

At least to Nancy it seems inappropriate. She’s not well-read in post-mortem social ethics for the actual dead. She’s not even sure where in life she could have gone search for such literature. If anywhere. So what does she know. This is the first time she’s been dead.

"Did you?" she asks.

Lia presses her lips together and sharply shakes her head no. Oh. Nancy inhales slowly, marvelling at the sensation of cool air travelling down her chest. Breathing is apparently still a thing. And so are tears, and so is pain, and injustice.

The girl quivers here before her, badly shaken and doing her best to bring comfort to the freshly deceased Nancy. Maybe Lia is not alive but she’s sentient. She’s the person Nancy did this for. Isn’t she?

No. The police can bring Lia’s killer to justice but they can do it only for the concept of the victims, not the people whose bodies were left behind.

"Lia was it?" Nancy says. "Lia, can you hold my hand?" She reaches out, palm up. There’s a moment of hesitation in which Lia’s restless fingers freeze. She looks at Nancy with red eyes and then one hand shoots out to grasp at Nancy’s. In one swift movement Nancy pulls Lia from her seat and down by her side into a desperate tight embrace.

For a long time Nancy is not sure whether the loud rattling sobs belong to Lia or herself. With her face buried in the softness of Lia’s hair, Nancy can be certain only of two things.

One, there is no justice for victims.

And two, this it. All of it.


End file.
